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Appointment

Stripped of virtue and clothes,
I stagger down the aisle of a cathedral,
sporting pustules on arms, breasts, thighs,
-pestilence of centuries-
A serpent coiled around my body
is my only adornment.
Naked before the congregation,
I hear Gregorian choirs intone elegies
to noblemen entombed in sarcophagi.
I transmuted love in lust,
temperance in ire,
envied other lives,
inverted the Tables.
Mounted on currents of air,
a caged bird embracing liberty,
I strayed from The Way.

Horrifying multitudes with my fetid scalp
-perchance a leper with bells clanging from her neck-
I drag my weary length across ancestral stones,
between Doric columns and chapels of celestial saints.
Amaranthine reptile prostrate before the altar,
I’m the primeval scream
of Edenic woman cast out into the world.
Gothic stained glass shudders,
the rose-window halos obscure gravestones.
In this precinct,
which purple cloth proclaims Body of Christ,
I’ll dally an indefinite time,
awaiting the Great Book’s Revelation.

“And when the Lamb had opened the seventh seal,
there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour.”
I could not cope with life.
Will I be among the chosen?

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How does this theme appeal to you?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Hope nobody takes offence. It's just a dark fantasy.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Explicit Content

Comments

Excellent Gracie. I applaud you ~ Excellent!

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Critique is a compliment
Kind regards, Alan
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Hello Alan, glad you like it. I was afraid some people would be sensitive about it. It's not about religion in general, just a personal dark fantasy that came to me some years ago. It was after Patrick's death and I'm distressed because, tho' I'd spent the entire night at his bedside, I went off to the kitchen to prepare him a cuppa tea, and that's when he passed. I really wish I had stayed by him till the very end.
So my thoughts were of the darkest kind, guilt, sorrow and all that.
Thanks for passing by, appreciated, Gracy
PS: Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, give us peace.
And so on. Thank you.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Why do we love when losing hurts so much?
We love so as not to be alone.
The pain now is part of the happiness.

(Based on the words of C.S. Lewis)

.......................................
Critique is a compliment
Kind regards, Alan
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Dear Alan, you're so right. We can't help loving, even the wrong people. Love is beautiful as well as painful. Thanks for visiting, all the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

What a fantastic fantasy, you are the queen of imagery and you always make your poems come alive. This is truly wonderful. Your subjects are always brilliant in my eyes.

Thank you...Teddy

Dear Teddy, you're so kind, always. I hope your friend is getting better. Do you get news from her or her family?
I don't really know why I come up with these fantasies, but that's how it is. I was in a very dark place when I wrote it.
Take care, all the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

I did not know
then the next morning she passed away
saying meet you on the other side
I composed
there is no other side
some advised title it as
APPOINTMENT
I DID
SHALL vsiit my antiques if found shall post it BUT your poems are unique '
Gracy

Dear lovedly, thanks so much for visiting, I love it when you do. Am I to understand that a friend of yours died on the operating table? Recently? My condolences, if I've understood correctly.
Not quite sure what you're advising me to do in the second half of your comments. Thanks for the "unique" comment. I was not feeling good when I wrote this poem.
Take care and all the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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